


Rather a Champagne Mood

by colazitron



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White wine makes you think stupid things, red wine makes you say stupid things, champagne makes you do stupid things.</p><p>"Let's go get really drunk." - "Okay."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rather a Champagne Mood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samanthajane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthajane/gifts).



"Let's go get really drunk", Ed had said and if there's one day Harry thinks he's allowed to go get really drunk and not have anyone say anything about it, it should be the day he's performing at the Olympic Games Closing Ceremony. So after he's said goodbye to his mum and sister and he and Ed have received multiple bone-crushing hugs from both of them, they go and get really, smashingly, almost blindingly drunk. Not that Harry wants his stomach pumped or anything, but he wants the world to be off kilter. There are jello shots and jäger bombs and possibly shots of vodka that come with powdered sugar and wedges of lime. It gets the job done spectacularly well and although Harry has no clue when he and Ed started drinking, he doesn't think it's been too long and there's a lovely fog where his better judgement usually sits.

"Mate, you are so hammered," Louis laughs, an arm slung around Eleanor's tiny, pretty waist. Pretty, pretty Eleanor and pretty, pretty Louis with their pretty, happy hands around each other.

"Yeah. Completely gone," Louis snorts. Harry wants Ed. He wants his arms around someone's waist too. Ed and his pretty, orange hair and his pretty, pink lips.

"More information than I ever needed. I'm holding this over your head for the rest of time, just so you know," Louis says and then grabs Harry's shoulders to bodily turn him around. "Your little toyboy's at the bar and I really hope he's getting you glasses of water."

"Not my toyboy," Harry mumbles. Ed's not a toy. Ed's lovely. Lovely, lovely Ed. Lovable Ed. Harry dares anyone not to love Ed. It's quite impossible. Harry hasn't tried but he's sure even if he didn't want to, he'd love Ed just as much as he does now.

"I love Ed," he says, just so there aren't any further misunderstandings concerning his feelings toward Ed.

"Of course you do," Louis says. "You're Harry. You love everyone." It's true, Harry thinks. He generally tends to like people. But not everyone. He doesn't think Louis means _everyone_ everyone. Just everyone who deserves it. Ed deserves it. Ed is lovely.

"I'm thinking in circles, Louis," Harry says.

"You mean you don't usually?" Louis asks. Harry pouts at him.

"Don't tease, I'm not at full capca... pacass... ca-pa-ci-ty. It's not fair."

"Well, if you're having trouble with your four syllable words, it's definitely serious."

"Don't be mean, Louis," Eleanor admonishes and pets Harry's arm. Harry beams at her. He's always liked Eleanor.

"It's okay. He's an even worse drunk than I am. He just likes prentending he's not," Harry says. He's reasonably certain there was a mistake in that sentence somewhere, but he can't be bothered working out where so he just grins at Louis who rolls his eyes and smiles back fondly.

"Are you going home with Ed later then?" Louis asks when he spots Ed making his way back to them.

"I sure hope so," Harry says with a little frown and pulls at the collar of his shirt, trying to make sure it sits right. He's pretty sure that was what Ed meant when he suggested they get spectacularly wasted. It's the actual thing Harry only ever lets himself indulge in when he can reasonably claim the alcohol is to blame for his horrible life choices. Not that Ed would be a bad life choice. Ed would be a great choice. In another life where they don't globetrot for a living.

"Good. I won't have to worry if I don't see you on a late night loo trip then."

“No,” Harry says and then wraps his arms around Ed’s waist, snuggling his head into his neck when he’s finally caught back up with them.

“Alright?” Ed asks, trying not to let Harry or anyone else bump into the full glasses he’s holding so he won’t spill anything.

“Love you,” Harry says and Ed’s laugh at that is loud and cheerful.

“Cheers, mate. You too,” Ed says and rubs his face against Harry’s when Harry pulls back a little. Harry splutters a giggle and rubs his own back against Ed’s until they finally pull back, both laughing.

“Well, that’s our cue to go, I think,” Louis says, squeezing Eleanor’s hip.

“Have a good night, you two,” she says, lifting her hand in a resemblance of a wave.

“You too! Make beautiful, passionate love!” Harry almost shouts at them, making a few heads turn and Louis grab Harry in a headlock to rub his knuckles into his head for making Eleanor blush. Harry only laughs at it, so it defeats the purpose a bit, but with another final pat on the shoulder they separate and then Harry watches Louis and Eleanor weave their way through the crowd.

“Your shirt makes your eyes look really blue,” Ed then says, peering into Harry’s face curiously, drinks now clutched close to his chest, one of them tilted dangerously sideways and almost running over.

“Your hoodie makes your hair extra orange,” Harry says back and then takes a drink from one of the glasses by lowering his head to it and fitting his lips over the rim.

“Bleh, water,” he says, scrunching up his face and earning another laugh from Ed.

“Need to stay hydrated,” Ed only says and pushes the glass into Harry’s hands. They make eye contact briefly, while both bringing their glasses up to their mouths and with a quirk of a lip they’re off to see who can chug the water faster. Ed beats Harry easily and laughs at him when some of the water sloshes down over his chin onto his shirt. Harry wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and grins brightly.

“One more round of those vodka shots?” he asks. Ed nods his agreement and then grabs Harry’s hand to pull him to the bar. Ed flags the bartender down and only a short moment later they each line up their three shots in a neat little row. Harry dabs his three lime wedges in the powdered sugar in preparation, while Ed watches. There’s a little twinkle in his eyes when Harry meets them with his own.

“Bottoms up,” Ed says, but while he downs a shot and then reaches for a wedge of lime, Harry knocks back all three in a row and then stuffs all three lime wedges in his mouth, clamping them between his teeth and grinning a big, green, three-piece grin at Ed. Ed chokes and snorts a laugh, his own wedge of lime falling back into his hand.

“Ow, fuck!” he yells then, clamping a hand over his nose. “Lime juice in my nose. Oooow.”

That in turn sets Harry off, three lime wedges falling from his mouth to the floor gracelessly. They should possibly really stop now, Harry thinks. He’s pretty sure they’re already quite a mess. He reaches out a hand to Ed to offer some comfort or something, but his legs cross somehow and instead he ends up grabbing Ed’s shoulder for support. Ed grins at him through glassy eyes and a bright red nose and Harry giggles back.

“Bit wobbly?” Ed asks and pulls Harry closer with an arm around his middle.

“Maybe I just wanted closer,” Harry says, ducking his head so he can whisper it into Ed’s hair. Ed hums thoughtfully but squirms away when Harry traces the tip of his nose over his neck. It makes him want to push Harry away and pull him closer at the same time.

“Maybe I don’t want you closer,” Ed says, fingers scrabbling at Harry’s shirt to get to the hot skin of his hip underneath.

“Maybe you’re lying,” Harry says, grin tucked into the sweaty space behind Ed’s ear.

“Maybe I wanted to lick that last shot off you,” Ed says, curving his body more into Harry’s.

“Maybe I’d’ve let you,” Harry says, one of his hands creeping down to squeeze at Ed’s arse.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Ed says, nails digging little marks into Harry’s skin.

“Yeah, let’s,” Harry says and pulls away from Ed only so much so they can walk, one of his arms slung over Ed’s shoulders, Ed’s still wound around his waist. There’s quite a queue for taxis outside, so they decide to walk a bit and try their luck elsewhere, but they don’t make it very far. Only a few streets later, Harry pulls Ed between his legs, leaning back against a broken streetlamp in the darkest space between the last and next working ones and pulls his face in to kiss. Ed makes a strangled sound in his throat, before pressing up against Harry to fit their bodies together and grabbing onto his hips for leverage while they kiss.

It’s messy and tastes like lime and sugar and even a bit like vodka. Harry’s head is making him believe the world is swaying from side to side as it is, but with the added rush of blood and difficulty breathing he thinks it’s probably a good thing he’s leaning against something because he’s not sure he could stand if he had to. Ed pulls Harry’s shirt the rest of the way loose from inside his trousers, going for the bottom buttons immediately and smoothing his hands over the flat expanse of Harry’s stomach. Harry moans into their kiss in response and tilts his hips forward, pressing closer to Ed.

“Want you naked,” Ed says and licks once at Harry’s lips before kissing them again like he can’t quite help himself. Harry winds his arms more fully around Ed’s head, pushing his hands down over his shoulder blades and down his back as far as he can reach. He can feel his own cock fill up inside his suit trousers and he knows from experience that that’s not exactly the most pleasant sensation so he reluctantly pulls away, only to be chased by Ed’s lips.

“Ed, come on,” he mumbles between kisses, kissing back despite his words. “Come on, take me home.”

“For nakedness?”

“Yeah, for naked times, come on.”

Harry can’t make Ed’s face out well in the dark when he steps back, but he doesn’t have to to know that he’s just as debauched as Harry feels. Ed grabs Harry’s hand and starts pulling him down the street, until Harry falls into step next to him, letting go of his hand when a group of equally drunk people stumble past them. He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets, just as Ed shoves them inside the pocket at the front of his hoodie to keep from reaching out for each other again. They bump shoulders every few steps from how close they’re walking, but neither of them comment on it, choosing to grin stupidly at the pavement or house fronts they’re passing. Only a few streets later they get lucky when a taxi pulls up to the pavement to let an elderly couple get out. Harry smiles at them and holds the door open, holding the woman’s purse while her (presumed) husband offers her a hand to help her out of the taxi.

“Why, thank you, dear,” she smiles at him and Harry grins at her.

“Pleasure.”

Ed’s already climbed into the backseat from the other side of the car and as soon as Harry closes the door behind himself, the taxi takes off. Harry scoots closer and pushes his face into Ed’s neck, letting his hand run up the inside of his thigh.

“Yours?” he asks, not really caring where it is they go as long as they get there as soon as possible and it gets them away from any possible prying eyes.

“Mhm,” Ed hums, reaching up a hand to scratch at Harry’s sweaty scalp. He’s only noticing how hot it had been inside the club now that the cool night air is blowing in through the open window.

“Wanna suck you off,” Harry whispers, hand drifting up the final inch to cup Ed through his trousers. “Get you all laid out on your bed and swallow you down. Haven’t had you in so long.”

Ed makes a grunt like he’s trying not to make any other noises and his grip on Harry’s hair tightens.

“You blush so pretty all down your chest,” Harry goes on, pushing his hand further up and underneath the hoodie and t-shirt to scratch at the hair leading down into Ed’s trousers. “Missed the way you taste too.”

“Haz,” Ed breathes, seemingly just for something to say, but he scoots further down in the seat and spreads his legs just a bit.

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “You want me to?”

“Always want it with you.”

It’s a plain lie, Harry knows. They spend enough of their time together clothed and watching silly movies or playing with Legos or eating greasy food; perfectly content to just be with each other. But it’s true as well, because all they ever need is a little spark to reignite the smouldering embers underneath and they’ll pounce.

“Want me to do it right here?” Harry says, tweaking the skin by Ed’s belly button. “Get your cock out and lean over you to lick it?”

Ed’s hips twitch as his muscles tense in an effort to keep still.

“Fuck, don’t say that,” he complains and then pulls on Harry’s hair to get him to straighten up and kiss him. It’s risky, perhaps, but they’re both too drunk and horny to care. The driver doesn’t seem to have recognised them so far, so it’s unlikely he’ll suddenly have an epiphany when or if he sees them snogging.

Even with the Olympic Games going on, London is blessedly easy and quick to manoeuvre at night and it’s not much longer until they stop outside Ed’s house. Ed already has his wallet out before Harry’s even managed to discern which pocket he’d shoved his into earlier and they basically fall over each other out onto the pavement. Ed pushes Harry along from behind, their giggling changing up into raucous laughter when they keep tripping over their own and each other’s feet.

Up by Ed’s door, Harry doesn’t want to wait any longer and turns on his heel in a surprising feat of agility, only to find Ed already up close and pushing him back into the bright blue wood. He moans happily into Ed’s lips and lets his tongue brush up against his own, revelling in the slow ministration. From here on out they have all night – or at least however much is left of it. Ed fumbles the keys from his pocket and then tries to unlock the door without having to pull away from Harry, but he fails miserably and when he drops his keys, they both pull back with wide grins on their well-kissed lips. Harry steps aside to let Ed open the door and then rushes him through it, hot on his heels. Ed toes off his shoes, while Harry has to lean down to untie them first, steadying himself against the wall of the hallway with one hand as he does it. Ed leaves him for the kitchen for a moment and comes back with a half-bottle of champagne.

“Come on, bedroom,” he says and Harry stumbles over his first few steps, trying to keep up with Ed.

The bottle sails onto the bed and bounces on the sheets for a tiny bit before Ed turns around and pulls at Harry’s blazer, getting it off his shoulders and dropping it to the floor. Harry grabs both the hoodie and t-shirt in return and as soon as Ed’s arms go up, pulls them over his head to fall on top of his blazer. Ed lets Harry crowd him back into the bed while he fiddles with the rest of the buttons on Harry’s shirt, finally getting them all undone just as he feels the back of his legs hit the bedframe. They climb up less than gracefully, but at this point neither of them care about grace. All they do care about is to get to as much skin as possible. Harry pulls his shirt off over his wrists before crawling up to join Ed.

“We played the Olympic Games tonight,” Ed whispers into Harry’s lips after a kiss, still on his knees in the middle of the mattress, Harry on his knees and a hand braced in the sheets before him, the other one holding on to Ed’s arm.

“Yeah,” he breathes back, sounding just as overwhelmed. Neither of them have really appreciated the sheer magnitude of tonight, and probably won’t until after their inevitable hangovers tomorrow. And since they’re going there anyway, Ed reaches behind himself and pulls the bottle in between them.

“Deserve it,” he says, pulls off the foil and twists the wire off. The cork shoots out before he’s even done completely, missing Harry by only a few inches and after a second of shock, Harry leans forward to press his lips to the cool bottle, sucking up the foam that trickles down the side of it. Ed only stares and lets him. With a lick of his lips and a pleased hum, Harry finally leans back up and grins at Ed.

“Would’ve been a waste,” he says. Ed nods his agreement. It would have indeed.

“Cheers,” he says instead of any of the what feels like thirty-five variants of ‘fuck me now’ in his head and takes a pull from the bottle before handing it to Harry. They go back and forth for a bit, before Harry accidentally spills some down his chin and instead of letting him wipe it off, Ed grips Harry’s wrist to stop him and then leans in to lick the sticky trace of alcohol up himself.

“Hey, let me...” he then says and grabs the hair at the back of Harry’s head to pull it back. Harry makes a confused noise, but Ed shushes him and tells him not to swallow before tilting the bottle into Harry mouth so it fills up with champagne and eventually inevitably runs over. He ducks down to where the two trickles of alcohol meet in the dip between Harry’s collar bone and sucks it up from there, pushing his tongue into the skin underneath and feeling the rumbling moan in Harry’s chest in his lips. It goes about as well as it can until the bottle's empty and Harry makes a distressed noise before closing his mouth and righting his head, frantically trying not to choke on the foamy, fizzy drink in his mouth. His eyes are glassy and red-rimmed where he stares wide-eyed at Ed, and his cheeks bulge a bit, throat working as he drinks the champagne down.

“Fuck. Why is that sexy?” he says between panting breaths for air and pushes Ed back into the sheets, attaching his lips to his neck in return. Ed doesn’t answer and simply moans his appreciation when Harry’s mouth trails lower to suck a bruise into the skin over his sternum. The bottle falls out of his hand and lands somewhere in the mess of sheets. Neither of them care.

Harry’s hips work in tiny little thrusts against Ed’s, both their cocks half-hard and pressing against each other through their remaining clothes. Ed kind of wants to roll Harry over and get them naked like they’d planned. He wants to get his hands on Harry’s naked skin everywhere and he wants Harry’s mouth on all of his, but he’s also comfortable and tired and dizzy and at some point Harry’s come back up to kiss him. Kissing Harry is possibly better than anything else Harry can do, and Ed’s still being surprised by all the things Harry can do.

At some point Harry slides mostly off Ed, lying only half on top of him instead of on his chest. Their legs are tangled and the hand attached to Ed’s arm that Harry is lying on is carding through his sweaty hair, while Harry’s propping himself up on one of his own elbows and drawing lazy swirls on the skin of Ed’s chest with the other hand. Their kisses slow down to close-mouthed pecks and even though Harry’s pressing his cock into Ed’s hip and Ed’s is weighed down by Harry’s thigh, neither of them makes a move to change the situation in any way.

“Missed you,” Harry mumbles into his lips and Ed makes a futile attempt to shuffle him closer. He knows their special kind of homesick for each other only ever kicks in after they’ve spent a few days together and find themselves believing that this time they’ll get to stay that way. They never do for long, of course. Instead of an answer Ed kisses Harry again, working their lips together even though he’s certain Harry’s already hurt as much as his own do. He’s not sure how long before Harry drifts off they’ve stopped kissing, but even though Harry’s squashing his arm and it’ll probably be half dead come morning, this is his favourite place to be. Half-hard and dizzy and Harry’s breath too hot on his face. At least tonight they have tomorrow to wake up to.

**The End**


End file.
